The First Time
by carizzle
Summary: Theme 1/100 : Introductions. "It’s not that I wouldn’t like to remember every second of our entire relationship, but it’s nearly impossible to think back that far." Stan/Kyle slash. Oneshot. Whose perspective do you think this was written in? ;


A/N: This next story, I'm starting a kind of challenge. I used to write fan fictions non-stop, but in the recent years, my writing has decreased so dramatically that, until very recent, I didn't write at all. To bring myself back up to speed (or at least_ try_ to), I'm participating in the 100 Theme Project, started by I'm a Loser. Spring Break will still be updated (hopefully more frequently), but I want to do this for practice. All stories in this project will be assumed one shots, and will only be taken farther if I feel like writing more to them. :]

Disclaimer: I don't own South Park, or any of its characters. I also don't own the idea for this 100 theme project. Go check out I'm A Loser's profile for info on it and the list.

Theme One: Introduction

I don't really remember how we happened. I don't know if we were even introduced or if we merely decided to be friends on that very first day of preschool, without any knowledge of who the other was. It's not that I wouldn't like to remember every second of our entire relationship, but it's nearly impossible to think back that far. I'm so sure that you'll remember, though, and I'd feel embarrassed if I asked and you did.

But I remember other things. Important things. Like our first fight. I laugh to myself, shaking my head as I recount the day. Our very first fight was over a girl; a Miss Wendy Testaburger. Somehow, I had been so caught up in her that I nearly forgot you. Nearly. It seems so stupid now, that I would have given up a day of hanging out with you to accompany Wendy to the park. Sure, I liked her so much back then, but if I could have seen the future, I never would have spent so many hours thinking about her.

Or maybe I would have. I probably wouldn't have believed it if I had seen the future. It's still a shock to me now.

I recall the first time I saw you cry. We were rough housing around at Stark Pond when you pushed me into the water. I was only pretending to drown, but when you pulled me out of the water and I could clearly taste the salt from your tears as they streamed down your face and on to mine, I'm not so sure I was pretending anymore. My lungs filled with heartbreak and regret for playing such a dirty joke and I immediately opened my eyes, and for years I denied ever having seen you cry.

As if it's happening before my eyes, I can see our first fist fight. We were drunk at a party in high school. That is to say, I was drunk and you were being a good friend and taking away a beer I didn't really need. I took a swing at you, but ended up hurting myself more when my knuckle collided with your tooth. Our first fist fight ended in the first time _you_ saw_ me_ cry. I cried because I was a horrible friend, and you were my best pal, and I was so lucky to *hiccup* have you in my life.

My heart hurts when I recollect the first time you insisted we didn't sleep in the same bed when you spent the night at my house. I insured you it was okay, and it wasn't gay or anything, but you still grabbed the extra pillow and plopped down on the floor. I stayed up half of the night, wondering why it bothered me as much as it did. I know, now, but it was such a mystery to me, then.

I reluctantly remember the first time I realized that Super Best Friends didn't mean we had to spend every moment together, as you so kindly put it when we had our first of many falling outs. You waited for my face to change, but I just stared at you with a blank expression, realizing that you were saying that you didn't _want_ to spend every moment together. Realizing that I did…

I even remember when you took it back, and we cried together for the first time. We would probably still both deny it, but we fell asleep that night with tears still staining our faces. And I'll never admit that I discreetly placed my arm around you while you softly snored.

The first time I admitted my feelings, to myself, I was with you. I was watching you walk to the bar to order another round of beers, and I nearly got up and left because I couldn't stop myself from wondering what your hair smelled like; what your green eyes looked like if you were close enough to kiss me; what it would feel like with your arms around me.

If I think hard enough (which isn't hard at all, because I can remember as if it were yesterday), I can recall when we were drunkenly wrestling and I pinned you to the ground and sat there, staring into your eyes, finally know what they looked like if you were close enough to kiss me.

And I remember when you did. My heart flutters as I think of our lips rushing towards each other so fast that we were left with bruises around our mouths. I pretended not to know what they were from the next morning, even though I could tell from your face that you were disappointed. Even though I felt insane with lust for you, for another bone-crushing kiss, with more passion than I had ever felt with Wendy fucking Testaburger. I wanted to throw you down and pour into you the years of bottled up frustration I felt. I wanted, _needed_ you to know how much I wanted and _needed_ you.

I didn't know back then but it would have saved us years of pain if I had just told you.

So, while I've got you here now, though you're only in South Park to visit your family for a few days, and then you'll be gone… While I've got you here now… I'll be honest with you, for the first time. I'll look you dead in the eyes and tell you every time I decided I loved you, for the first time. And, for the first time, I'm going to kiss you, and I'm not going to pretend it didn't happen and I hope… I hope so much that it will be the first of many.


End file.
